


I can break my arm and your heart at the same time

by thisfairytalegonebad



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Broken Bones, Canon Compliant, M/M, POV First Person, POV Patroclus, Present Tense, minor character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 06:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5573566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisfairytalegonebad/pseuds/thisfairytalegonebad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on that throwaway line from TSoA, where Patroclus falls and breaks his arm. Patroclus is hurt, Achilles is worried. That's basically all this is about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can break my arm and your heart at the same time

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote Patrochilles fanfic! Fuck yeah (it was a lot of fun oh my)! This fandom doesn't have nearly enough fics... or artwork... or members... so here's me trying to contribute something.
> 
> I tried first person POV for the first time, as well as present tense, so I’m really sorry if anything sounds weird, and please do tell me if it does so I can fix it. 
> 
> Anyway, remember that one line when they were with Chiron, and Patroclus fell down a ravine and broke his arm? I loved the idea of it too much to just leave it a throwaway line, so this just kind of happened (it was done before though, and I really hope it doesn’t come off as copying or anything, if it does, I’m really sorry, I didn't intend to steal anything in any way.)
> 
> The title... I don't even have an excuse tbh. I was complaining to my friends about how I had no idea what to name the fic, and out of many suggestions, my girlfriend came up with this one. And because I was desperate as fuck, I would have accepted almost anything at that point. So, there. I will change it if I get a better idea, but for now this is gonna be the title.

I don’t even really notice until it’s too late. All I know that one second I’m running after Achilles, and the next I’m lying on the ground awkwardly, Achilles by my side, and a searing pain in my left arm.

For a split second I wonder what Achilles is thinking, if he’s judging me for being so clumsy, for falling and hurting myself in the process, but I do not have time to reflect on it much longer because now I notice Achilles frantically talking to me. His hands are hovering over me, it seems he is unsure whether or not to touch me.

I try to focus on his words. It takes me a few seconds, but then I manage.

“Patroclus!” _Pa-tro-clus_. “Patroclus, are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

Hurt?

My clouded brain needs a moment to process his questions and suddenly, I remember my arm; or rather, I am reminded of it by a wave of pain shooting through my entire arm.

I suppress a groan and close my eyes for a moment, but I open them again when Achilles lets out a startled gasp and cups my face in his hands. “Patroclus?”

Finally, I manage to form coherent words. “My arm,” I tell him, “I think there’s something wrong with my arm.”

Another wave of pain hits me. This time I can’t fight back a pained sound, and I close my eyes again.

Achilles’ gentle fingers comb through my hair in a comforting manner, though I am not sure if he is doing it to comfort me, or himself as well.   

“Patroclus,” he says. “I will get you to Chiron. He will help you. I need you to stay awake until then, alright? Do you think you can do that?” He’s trying to sound calm, but the worry and anxiety are evident in his voice.

I nod, eyes still closed. I feel lightheaded, and my brain is still clouded and foggy, but I’m quite sure I can manage until we reach the cave.

“Good. Patroclus, you trust me, right?”

I nod again. “Of course.” My voice sounds weak and pathetic, even more than usual, but Achilles doesn’t give me the time to be ashamed.

He gently pushes one arm beneath my shoulder blades, and the other one beneath my legs. As carefully as possible, he pulls me up against his chest and lifts me into his arms, but the movement is enough to send another wave of pain through my arm. I gasp again, involuntarily, and curl up against his chest.

He pulls me closer and starts walking. He isn’t running, I can tell he wants to, but instead he’s walking at a fast pace to avoid making things any more painful for me.

I keep my promise to stay awake, but I am unable to concentrate on anything else than not passing out, so Chiron’s voice comes as a surprise.

“Achilles, what happened?” Chiron asks, urgent but calm.

“He- he fell. We were running, and- and there was that ravine. He- we just- he must have tripped, I don’t know. It happened too fast. I could not do- I could not prevent him from falling. There is something wrong with him, with his arm. Please help him,” Achilles begs. He sounds distressed, and his words barely make sense to me.

Chiron nods curtly. “Take him to the bed, set him down gently. I will examine him and show you how to treat his injury.”

I almost laugh at that. It isn’t necessary to tell Achilles to be careful with me. He is being as gentle as possible already, as if I could break any second. I am still pressed against his chest, and I can feel him shaking slightly; now that Chiron is there to help he allows himself to drop his calm act.

After Achilles laid me down on the bed, Chiron makes me swallow a mixture that is supposed to relieve the pain. It tastes disgusting, but it helps.

Or, at least it does until Chiron has to set the bones in my arm.

Achilles is holding my uninjured hand, and I scream as my arm is yanked roughly to put the bones back into their original position. I feel him tense, and I can tell it takes all of his willpower and reasonable thinking to refrain from strangling Chiron on the spot. My arm feels as though it were on fire, but I know it was necessary. Achilles knows too, it is the only reason why he isn’t trying to kill Chiron right now. I squeeze his hand softly; he squeezes back.

Chiron then proceeds with putting my arm into a splint and wrapping it in bandages. He explains everything he does, patient and professional.

He tells us my arm is broken and I won’t be able to use it for the next few weeks. He wraps the bandage around my forearm and my hand, and shows Achilles how to wrap it just tight enough to keep the bones from moving without hurting me or causing any more damage.

Achilles watches attentively, but he doesn’t say anything, and he never lets go of my hand.

I find it harder and harder to stay conscious during the treatment - the medication is starting to work -  and before I can fight it any longer, I fall asleep.

 

When I come to, it’s dark. Achilles is curled up next to me, sleeping soundly.

The medication’s effect is wearing off, and my arm is throbbing uncomfortably.

For a while, I lie awake and can’t fall back asleep. I’m not in too much pain, but enough for me not to be able to ignore it completely.

I shift a little to get more comfortable, but I can’t find a satisfying position, no matter much I wriggle around.

Just when I want to give up, Achilles stirs. I watch him, hoping I didn’t wake him up. He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and assume he’s still asleep, but then he mumbles, “Patroclus? Are you alright?”

“I am fine. Go back to sleep,” I tell him, but he reaches his arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest for the second time that day, always mindful of my arm, even in his half-asleep state.

“You should sleep,” he says, “You need rest.” He’s already half back asleep, and I want to tell him that I was trying to do exactly that for quite some time now, and that it isn’t as easy as that, but the warmth coming from his body plus the fact that I am finally comfortable quickly makes me drift off once more.

* * *

In the morning, the bed next to me is empty. That’s unusual; I always wake up before him.

But before I can start to worry about Achilles’ whereabouts, he is standing at the entrance of the cave, smiling at me like the incarnation of the sun. “Good morning, Patroclus. Did you sleep well?” he asks as he walks up to the bed with a plate and a cup in his hands.

I nod. “Breakfast?” I inquire, gesturing at the plate.

“Yes. Chiron said you could eat it in bed,” he smiles. He hands me the plate and the cup and sits down on the bed.

He is sitting close enough for our shoulders to touch just slightly as he watches me eat.

He doesn’t mention the way we slept last night. He doesn’t, and so I don’t either.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so to explain a few things (I feel like I’m rambling way too much about those 1k words… sorry):
> 
> Achilles wants Patroclus to stay awake so he won’t go into shock (just imagine Chiron taught them that much already). Patroclus’ reaction to the entire thing might look a bit exaggerated, but I think it’s not too far off. I have never broken a bone myself, but I was present when someone I know broke her hand last Saturday, and she was in a great deal of pain and she also said she felt dizzy and lightheaded. And whenever I was in pain myself, such as spraining my ankle or something, I always felt very dizzy and lightheaded as well, plus, Patroclus and Achilles are like what, 14, at this point? They’re just kids, so I think Patroclus’ behaviour might be at least sort of realistic (please do tell me if it isn’t!).
> 
> As for the way they sleep in each other’s arms, this is set before Achilles realises Thetis can’t see them on Pelion, so they’re still trying to suppress the gay… which is why they don’t mention it in the morning. 
> 
> Oh, and we all know how fucking protective Achilles is of Patroclus, to the thing with him wanting to strangle Chiron is merely a reflex. I have this headcanon, like, Patroclus is hurting, so whatever is hurting him must go- even if it's helping him. Imagine Achilles trying to murder a dentist because they have to pull Patroclus' tooth. Yeah. That's that.
> 
> Ok, that was enough ranting I guess, see ya *flies off*


End file.
